


Shout at the Devil

by prettyboyporter



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25352671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboyporter/pseuds/prettyboyporter
Summary: Steve and Billy go to a Motley Crue concert in Detroit.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 10
Kudos: 87
Collections: harringrove for BLM





	Shout at the Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LazyBaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/gifts).



> for harringrove for BLM, for granpappy winchester, who wanted headbanger Billy doing this thing! I hope you enjoy!

Billy’s Camaro fit right in, Steve thought, as they drove through the streets of Detroit. He cruised toward the arena with Black Sabbath blaring out of the rolled-down windows, and the city smelled like blacktop and exhaust fumes. Billy’s aviators reflected the buildings and people around them. Steve was convinced coming here might be a bad idea -- the city had a bad reputation, after all, but so far, it just seemed like a cool, working-class city.

They drove up specifically for the Motley Crue concert and got a hotel in town. The Chicago show had sold out in 15 minutes, but Steve was able to get tickets to the show three nights later in Detroit and gave them to Billy for his birthday. The drive was easy enough, and not as long as he’d anticipated. Steve folded the map and put it back in the glove compartment. 

All different kinds of people lined the streets. A solid portion of the crowd wore black concert t-shirts and ripped jeans and also had mullets as they walked toward Cobo Arena. Cigarettes, denim miniskirts, and ratted hair grew more frequent the closer they got to the arena. Several of them _wooo_ ed at the metal coming from Billy’s car, flashing devil horns at them. Steve smiled awkwardly and waved back. 

Billy stuck his tongue out at them and grinned. 

The arena that night was like walking into an entirely different _world_. It was thick with smoke from the fog machines onstage, as well as the cigarette smoke and the distinct odor of weed. Music poured out from the towering speakers, loud rock that fired up the tough-looking audience. 

Even the girls here kind of looked like they could kick Steve’s ass. 

The lights cut off and beams of multi-colored lights cut through the foggy stage. The opening act came on -- Autograph -- but Steve only knew one of their songs. 

The whole thing was a display of scarves, studded leather, tight clothes, and massive amounts of hairspray. 

Billy looked like he was in seventh heaven -- the grin on his face was like one Steve had never seen before. And this was for a band Steve didn’t know very well. 

Steve kind of felt like a tourist here -- like he was a guest student visiting a different school. He felt sheepish around these people -- loud, wild, burnouts, headbangers, girls in tube tops ready to flash anyone they saw fit. 

Between sets they passed a joint, though, careful not to attract the attention of the roaming security guards. Not like they’d pinpoint it, anyway. Seemed like half of the Motor City was blazing up that night. 

So when the lights dimmed for the main act, Steve felt pleasantly loose. A bit of Billy’s excitement rolled onto him, and he forgot about all of the _tsk tsk_ ing that his mom did that Motley Crue’s music, claiming they were devil worshippers and so were all of their fans because she’d believe anything Tipper Gore told her.

If there was anything Steve worshipped, though, it was watching how his boyfriend reacted to the band onstage -- their music, the insane antics the drummer pulled when he got into a metal cage suspended from the ceiling that spun around as he drummed. 

Billy came alive -- pumping his fist, headbanging a bit, his curls flying everywhere. 

It was kind of adorable.

And it really made Steve want to wrap his arms and legs around Billy and say _mine, forever, always_. 

Steve did the next best thing and pulled Billy into his arms during _Home Sweet Home_ , slow and sweet. Billy rocked back and forth in Steve’s arms, his blue eyes glazed and dopey, staring at Steve’s mouth. 

After calculating the risk and thinking, _this might get our asses kicked_ , he took the chance and leaned forward to press his lips to Billys. 

He tasted like cigarettes and weed -- like what a Motley Crue concert should taste like, in Steve’s mind. It tasted like Billy’s happiness, when he curled his tongue around Steve’s and slid his fingers into Steve’s back pocket, giving his ass a squeeze. 

They made out until the end of the song and then Billy pulled back, his smile broad. “Thanks for the tickets, pretty boy.” 

Steve kissed the corner of Billy’s mouth. “Gettin sappy on me, Billy?” 

“Fuck off,” Billy said. He shoved Steve’s shoulder playfully, slapped him on the ass, then turned to the band to shout loud enough for the devil to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> prettyboyporter on tumblr


End file.
